


Fallen

by Caisa



Series: Order 66 OS [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Order 66
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:23:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8453377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caisa/pseuds/Caisa
Summary: Serra Keto, a young padawan experiences the order 66 and the fall of her hero.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> This here is my first ff written in english so please excuse mistakes I did my very best :) I wrote this one a few years ago in german (original can be found under the same title and author on Fanfiction.de) and now decided to also share it with you guys!  
> As some of you might see it is really loosely based on the Episode 3 video-game, but a few things are different, I was focused more on the story I wanted to tell than on the canon here.  
> Hope you all enjoy it!

_Your focus determines your reality._

Years went by since Master Kenobi told you this, but now is the first time you _understand_.  
The things you see, hear, feel, are what you call reality, who knows, if everyone perceives the same things? That’s what you used to think Obi-Wan was telling you, but now you are sure he meant something different.  
Things you _believe_ , your way of thinking determines your actions. Your perception of _Good_ and _Evil_ is what shows who you are.  
You are sure that is what he was saying all those years ago. You haven’t thought about it for a long time, but just now, the temple covered in such a deep silence that you can’t even hear the _Force_ , it comes back to your mind.

One of the other Padawans speaks to you, asks if you are okay because your face is as pale as the skin of a corpse. In his eyes you see the same _fear_ that must be reflecting in yours. The Force is silent, hardly to sense, not giving any sign while the world might be breaking down.  
It is _wrong_.  
You stand up and lay your hand on your lightsaber so the Younglings and other Padawans can’t see it trembling. You shiver, close your eyes looking for the force but all you feel is the silence of a graveyard. That is why Master Drallig sent you to the Younglings after the training, to protect them. Nobody knows how to deal with this situation, nobody has ever felt _nothing_.  
It was as if the whole world was holding it’s breath waiting for something terrible to happen.

“Younglings, you go to the chambers of the council, Padawans, follow me!”  
Master Drallig’s voice rips you out of your thoughts. Your fist closes around your saber and you rush behind him, not daring to ask where you are going. Noises of a fight echo down the corridor. You stumble, unable to believe it. _The temple is under attack_. No, that’s impossible. Every inch of your body wants to deny the obvious. 

The Force comes back to you but it is not _right_ , as if it was waiting for this very moment to rush into you and to disturb your whole balance. The white, peaceful river that carried you your whole life is rough, troubled as if there was a storm around it. It is streaming down into a black swirl, getting stronger the nearer you come to the noises.  
You know it instinctively: The dark side of the Force. 

You run faster, the hiss of blasters, screaming, loud orders filling your ears. You want nothing more than to help, but Master Drallig stops at a crossing and turns to you. “Serra, Whie, Bene, you’ll stay here with me. Try to stop them, if you can.” You don’t ask, who _they_ are. “You others spread between the front and the Younglings. Go!”  
Seven Padawans nod and run down the different corridors. You are glad you can stay here, with your Master. He is a Jedi-Knight, he will take care, everything will be fine.

You go into combat position and ignite your lightsabers. Deep, emerald green lights up the darkness and you calm down.  
Then they come.

You prance around, dodge the shots, let the force guide you. Fast but not very strong moves. Shien has always been you favorite combat style. You lift your saber to stop a headshot, duck to the side to avoid another. You don’t know why the clones are attacking the temple and for the moment you don’t care. They are doing it, that is important, that is reality for now.  
Step back, hit, jump. You lose your feeling for time while you are fighting on.  
You cannot fail.

On the left side Whies presence extinguishes and you open your eyes, soon enough to see his corpse hitting the floor. You feel the grief, even though emotional bonds were not allowed among the Jedi you two had always been close to each other.  
You press your lips together, suppressing the desire to attack the clone with all you have to kill them. To you they are _evil_.

_Your focus determines your reality._

But it doesn’t matter anymore what is reality and what isn’t, it’s not important anymore what Master Kenobi was telling you back than. It is all just about to _survive_. 

Even though you put as less effort as possible into your moves, despite all your endurance you feel your body getting weaker. Your arms are getting heavy, your heart is pumping too fast, your lungs are hurting, desperate for more air. You won’t do any longer.  
Your getting slower, knowing that each mistake could be your end. 

The clones move forward and you know they are too many. You won’t be able to stop them.  
But still your clasp you lightsabers.  
Next to you Bene sinks to the floor, leaving you and Master Drallig alone. The clones close the circle around you- you can’t do anything to prevent that- and you lash around, stop the shots, sending them back, hitting as many of your enemies as possible.  
_Don’t fail_.  
You think of the Younglings, little children, some of them even to small to own a lightsaber for training, waiting in the chambers of the council for you to save them.  
The rows of the clones thin up and you feel a little, warm spark of hope deep in your chest. Maybe you could do it. Survive. Protect the temple. 

Than you see _him_.  
You think, you are saved, want to shout his name, he will make everything right, but your throat closes as you _feel_ him. He says something but you cannot hear, blood rushing to your veins louder than anything else.  
His blade, ice blue, comes closer, green meets blue, light explodes before your eyes, your saber slips out of your hand, cold, yellow eyes shine under the hood, your throat forms a scream-

You fail.


End file.
